Guy Cecil ☼ [Gᴀɪʟᴀʀᴅɪᴀ•Gᴀʟᴀɴ•Gᴀʀᴅɪᴏs] (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
relinquishing) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
towerofanimus2013-04-15 10:45 am
relinquishing) wrote in towerofanimus2013-04-15 10:45 am
There was a little boy//Who was a little toy//Chip in the middle of his forehead
---------------------------------------
Characters: Guy Cecil and you
Setting: Alllllll over the place the whole week. Pick a mode, pick a floor, pick a date for this week, and pick whether you wish to die or not, basically!
Format: Action preferred, but I'll follow.
Summary: Sometimes Guy tries to patrol and do as he's been told. Sometimes he regains his clarity with a frightful realization. And sometimes snapping out of it just makes things so much worse
Warnings: Brainwashing, a bit of body horror, mental trauma, panic, and bloody bludgeoning with chains. A note: Guy's modifications can and WILL make him kill women, especially if you catch him while he's sane for too long.
DORMITORIES
[It was fine.
That was all he could think at times. All he was allowed to think. Everything was fine. The halls were to be patrolled. Messes were to be cleaned up. Those not compliant were to be dealt with harshly, whether citizen or drone. If one were to approach him, he could respond. But he would sound more like the general of an army than the Guy people might know. Those drones that have started to zone out, stand in corners or stalk citizens may be approached by the blonde.
The chains that burdened him - or, rather, SHOULD be burdening him - wrap around his torso and limbs, pulling painfully at his skin with their weight. The links of the chain are twisted with the bloody, mangled remains of a dozen or so women, all shoved into their links like a sadistic trophy collection. If he were even in his right mind, he would recognize this. But for now? His stride doesn't cease, movements slow but firm. He's simply doing his duty.
Everything is fine.]
SANITY - Dormitories, The Staircases, The Meadow, The Morgue, or take your pick
[And yet... there were times where things were definitely... not fine?
He'd shake his head, feeling as if he'd just woken up from a bad dream, wearily looking around... noticing the pull of the chain on his body, seeing the corpses, and panicking.
He might keep his mind long enough to find a familiar face - ANY familiar face - wandering the levels with wide and fearful eyes. He might simply seek a place of solitude to try and get his head back together - come on, come on, KEEP it together... or he might be searching for a way to remove the bodies and chains from his body, stepping into the morgue and wearily glancing through the tools...
Or he might just come up to anyone he can find, a painful plea in his eyes.]
Please... please, you have to help me...!
[One would just hope he doesn't zone out and suddenly ignore them... or worse.]
PANIC - ROOM 5-02, The Staircases, The Cathedral, The Poppy Field, The Lagoon, The Crystal Room, or take your pick
[And sometimes, it's just simply too much. He's SURROUNDED by women, DEAD women, blood and bone and muscle and the sound of metal against metal and he's trapped and he can't escape and no no no NO NO NO I'M SCARED...
It's the tricky thing about having a fear, especially one you don't understand. After a point, it controls you. And at times, it does so with Guy. He's drawn to corners, the edges of the stairs, the far wall of the cathedral, curled up on himself with chains as a blanket, sometimes silently shaking and sometimes...
Screaming.
Screaming and screaming and screaming, like a child being attacked by a monster, until his voice goes raw, not caring if the sound echoes through the building, not caring if the sound goes silent. Fingers digging into his scalp and forcing every last ounce of energy on a silent scream... sometimes, it's all he can manage to do.
He can't escape he can't escape he can't--
Someone could reach a hand out to help the poor man, or simply get him back on his feet and tell him to keep to his work. He may not be able to respond... or the response you may get is a heavy chain to the face, like a trapped animal lashing out.
He wasn't fine... oh Score he wasn't fine--]
((OOC NOTES:
- If you are in Groups C and D, Guy can and will command you to do various things.
- Guy is most prone to hunting down women when he is sane/panicking. Again, if your character does or does not wish to be killed, please note so in the subject line.))
no subject
[And she really hopes that it does. She brings her Evoker the rest of her way up to her head, closes her eyes, and pulls the trigger. There's no hesitation - by now, Mitsuru has had enough experience with the sensation of "shooting" herself that it's not as disorienting an experience as it used to be.
She focuses, and as her Persona appears, the temperature around the chain she has her attention on drops. Frost begins to form on the metal, and then there's a flash of light and a burst of energy as it flash-freezes. She waits for her eyes to adjust, leaning forward slightly to see if it was enough to shatter the chain.]
no subject
Given a moment to steel himself, though, and Guy will be drawing his sword with his opposite hand, ramming the hilt as far up as he dare on the frozen chain. The metal immediately splinters, and again with another strong hit, cracking and dropping completely to the ground, shards scattering at the impact.
There's still two links awkwardly jutting from his shoulder. But the bulk of the chain, along with the corpses it carries, is now free from Guy's body. He should be backing off.
But he stays still, breathing hard, sword still held in his hand with his gaze still firmly locked at the remains of what had just been removed from his arm.
No.
No, this wasn't...
This wasn't right...]
no subject
[She doesn't immediately realize that something isn't quite right. Give her a moment or two - but for now, she merely looks relieved that he's free of the chain and the mass of bodies. It's true that those links on his shoulder can't be at all pleasant, but the worst is over.
...only it's not. He's still looking at them - why isn't he getting away from the bodies, going about his day?
Unfortunately, she doesn't have any sort of insight to this, so she completely misunderstands.]
It's alright now. You're free of them.
no subject
You--
[Slowly, a twist of anger fills his features. No... no, it was broken. She's torn them away. Why? Why had he allowed that? Why wasn't she being punished? Why why WHY why had she touched them why was she still sitting there and not joining them??
Despite the weight of the other chains that should be weighing his body down, the blonde is rolling onto his feet and advancing forward with an unnatural speed, grip tight on the hilt of his blade as he draws it and slices forward.]
no subject
[He's too fast.
Mitsuru makes to dodge, brings her hand up to fire her Evoker again - but Guy is simply too fast. Thankfully, she avoids being skewered. But there's a sharp, searing pain, a clatter -
She looks down and can't quite make sense of what she's seeing. Her Evoker is on the ground. Her finger is still curled around the finger, but her Evoker is on the ground -
Her entire hand is on the ground -
Mind reeling, she takes a few quick steps back and does her best to push the image out of her mind and gauge the situation. But it hurts. She can feel where her hand should be, and the blood...
She has enough experience with battle to know how this is going to end, but that doesn't mean she's going to simply stand there and let herself be slaughtered. Her rapier is in her other hand. If he comes at her again, she'll make to parry any of his thrusts - but the difference in their weaponry, their speed, will simply be too great. It would have been even if she hadn't lost her dominant hand. She knows that.
But Mitsuru Kirijo is not one to simply lay down and die.]
Pull yourself together!
[Those three words will likely be her last.]
no subject
Inwardly, he should be screaming. He should be fighting, feeling repulsed, regretting, apologizing... but all he can think of is what a shame it is to have wasted that hand.
It's in and out of his mind in an instant, treating the dismemberment like one might treat a dead flower - with a flash of disappointment before quickly moving on to fix the problem. It's far more attention than her words receive - the noise hardly gains a reaction, let alone what's being said, his expression hardly budging before his blade strikes out again, an uppercut aimed for the gut.]